Phyllis Cole-Dai's Blog, page 17
July 17, 2018
The Big Reveal: Here’s the Book Cover!
Here’s the book cover of my latest work, Beneath the Same Stars, a novel of the 1862 U.S.-Dakota War. One Sky Press will publish the book next month.
Thanks to everybody who has been so supportive of my research, writing and sanity during the five or six years I’ve been working on this project. Now the next phase begins: public speaking, dialogue, listening, more learning…!
This morning I had a delightful first conversation with the great-great-granddaughter of my main character, Sarah Wakefield. Somehow she found me online! Our correspondence will be ongoing, and we hope to meet soon. Her mother, Sarah’s great-granddaughter, is still living, in her 90s. I look forward to meeting her. What an amazing beginning to this phase…..
By the way, in case you missed the book trailer I posted a couple of weeks ago, you might enjoy watching it. Click here to view.
Get your free sampler of my work by joining my Open Circle. (Music, prose and poetry, oh my!) As a member you’ll receive an occasional email with happy updates, exclusive content and special offers. You may unsubscribe at any time, but I hope we’ll stay in touch!
The post The Big Reveal: Here’s the Book Cover! appeared first on Phyllis Cole-Dai.
June 21, 2018
My Panicked Body Must Speak for Me
Some years ago, I lived by choice for seven weeks on the streets of a major city, trying to be a compassionate presence among the chronically homeless. My first night out, I had a panic attack. Initially I didn’t know what was happening. I’d never experienced a panic attack before. It’s a sudden episode of intense, overwhelming fear that makes you feel like you’re dying, despite your being in no immediate danger. That night, I think the panic hit because I’d already gained insight into how scarcely my life mattered to most passersby on the cold city streets. Not to “street people,” but to “ordinary folks.” Obviously assuming I was homeless, they seemed to have endless ways of letting me know that, at best, I was irrelevant to them; at worst, I was human waste. My plunge into their indifference and resentment shocked my system. I was shattered by a sense of insignificance and alienation.
Forty-six days later, I returned home to my old life. I was safe but not sound. The panic attacks that had begun on the streets took years of therapy and practice to learn how to manage. The past three or four years, I’ve rarely had an episode, and when I did, I was able to cope.
Then, one night this week, a panic attack laid me out. I was suddenly writhing and moaning on the floor, drenched in sweat, sick to my stomach, senses hyped to the max, my mind unable to process my surroundings. I was scared to death. I felt like I was dying, but I knew I wasn’t, because I recognized the symptoms. “No way around but through,” I kept telling myself, gripping my husband’s hand, trying to breathe.
The trigger for this? News coverage about the refugee families being separated along the southern border of the United States. Or, better put, not the “coverage,” but simply the images and voices of the children. They spoke for themselves. Nobody needed to tell me what they meant. My soul cried out. A long, horrific wail, as if giving birth to a stillborn.
I confess: I don’t know what to say in times like this. They’re like none I’ve ever witnessed. Deceit and immorality—inhumanity—runs rampant among those leaders entrusted with our welfare. Almost every day, I’m reduced to shock, overcome by indignation, outrage and especially the pain of fellow-feeling. Almost every day, I feel as if I’m back living on the streets, only this time I’m not alone in my panic. I’m with masses of people who feel lost and overwhelmed. The country we love is being imperiled by self-inflicted wounds. This threat isn’t imagined. It’s very, very real. We can see with our own eyes how little some lives are made to matter by “ordinary folks” who know nothing about them; who consider them irrelevant, or disposable; who bully and exploit and marginalize them as much as possible in pursuit of power.
I confess: in times like this, I don’t know how to say anything that will matter. What words are such leaders capable of hearing? What humane, wise things are they actually willing to consider doing, and then (wonder of wonders) do?
We plunge together into the heart of it. I have no answers. I’m a writer, and I’ll keep writing, but I have no faith in words. Being a member of “the free press” (which includes the literary arts), I’m now labeled “an enemy of the people.”
My body shatters. Its brokenness will have to speak for me.
Get your free sampler of my work by joining my Open Circle. (Music, prose and poetry, oh my!) As a member you’ll receive an occasional email with happy updates, exclusive content and special offers. You may unsubscribe at any time, but I hope we’ll stay in touch!
The post My Panicked Body Must Speak for Me appeared first on Phyllis Cole-Dai.
June 14, 2018
Book Trailer Released for “Beneath the Same Stars”
I’m excited to announce that my debut novel, Beneath the Same Stars, will be published in late August by One Sky Press. You’re the first to see the book trailer (outside the family, that is!).
The novel is inspired by actual events surrounding the U.S.-Dakota War of 1862. Ever heard of it? I hadn’t until 2012, when Minnesota commemorated the 150th anniversary. Unfortunately many of the ugly dynamics of that time are still with us.
I hope you appreciate the trailer. Watch for more information as the book’s release date approaches.
Get your free sampler of my work by joining my Open Circle. (Music, prose and poetry, oh my!) As a member you’ll receive an occasional email with happy updates, exclusive content and special offers. You may unsubscribe at any time, but I hope we’ll stay in touch!
The post Book Trailer Released for “Beneath the Same Stars” appeared first on Phyllis Cole-Dai.
